


The Year It All Started

by RainbowDrop



Series: The Unwritten Past [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (NOT a teacherxstudent), 1981-1982, Angst, Bullying, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fix-It, Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, destroying stereotypes, eventual romance in later parts, part 1 of 2, subpart 1 of 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowDrop/pseuds/RainbowDrop
Summary: The year is 1981Voldemort is steadily rising to power and the world is settling into darkness.Sarah Williams hopes things will be safer at her new school as she begins her first year at Hogwarts. However, the things she hears makes her wonder if perhaps her hopes could be in vain. Forbidden Forests, Poltergeists, Cursed teaching positions, and talk of Death Eaters around every corner. It seems one of the most peculiar things in her life has become her strange fascination with her new potions professor. Could he really be as bad as they say? Or is his life just as complicated as hers?The first year of Part 1 of a 2 part fic.Join Sarah through her school years as she deals with the unfortunate circumstances dealt to her. A mixed cast of original and canon characters based in the canon timeline of years 1981-1982.INTERMITTENT HIATUS
Relationships: Severus Snape & Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader
Series: The Unwritten Past [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722364
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	1. 1981

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my new monster of a fic! This is just year 1 of 7 for Part 1. Part 1 will explore Sarah's years through school, while the 7 years of Part 2 will delve more into her adult life and the strange budding romance between her and her old potions professor. Probably the slowest of slow burns. NOT a Teacher x Student fic. 
> 
> I hope to update this weekly every Sunday! Hope to see you along for the ride!

Chapter 1  
1981

The frosty air bit at their faces as they made their way into King’s Cross station. A nasty storm raged outside the building, freezing wind billowing past them as they slipped through the doors. The steady chatter of hundreds of people greeted their ears–hushed, hasty and heavy. Muggles of all ages rushed around the pair of witches as they made their way through the crowds. The tap-tap-tapping of raindrops pattered in vain against the curved glass ceiling. September was already starting off on a gloomy note. Given the current state of affairs, it only made sense that the weather would follow suit as well.

The sky was painted a deep grey as the hundreds of people went along with their daily business. Though unaware of the cause, each of their faces reflected the general unease permeating the air. Even muggles could sense something was amiss. Events were happening all over the world nowadays. Events that couldn’t be explained by any regular means. At least, not by their own standards. The world was steadily being plunged into darkness right before their very eyes.

A small head of warm, brown waves bobbed through the crowd. The younger witch pushed her luggage trolley dutifully along as she followed alongside her aunt through the station. Their shoes clicked against the hard concrete tiling, mixing in with the crowd. The young girl’s eyes flickered about nervously as they made their way towards platform nine and three-quarters. Men, women and children bustled along, each heading in their respective directions. Anyone could be hiding amongst them. Sarah gave a slight shudder. 

Her aunt gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze when she noticed her fidgeting, blue eyes filled with warmth and concern. Sarah tensed momentarily at the contact, her own honey brown eyes flashing up. She gave a weary smile when her gaze met her aunt’s. The knot seemed to loosen slightly from within her chest. Things would be alright, her aunt’s words echoed in her mind. Even with this thought trying to comfort her, a nagging feeling in the back of her head just couldn’t let go of the idea that something bad was going to happen at any moment. 

Sarah glanced up at one of the clocks hanging overhead. It was only 10:30 a.m. They still had plenty of time to cross the barrier, get all her things packed up, say their goodbyes and then she would be off on her way to school. A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t know if she could really do this. When was the last time she had been away from her family? She glanced back at her aunt once more, watching as her short black hair whipped behind her ears, bright eyes trained straight ahead.

Her Aunt Mary was a large woman, in several senses of the word. Her eyes, wide and expressive like the sky, could easily overwhelm the rest of her face, unable to hide the emotions swirling around inside of her. Black hair framed her face. Careful strands were teased into a style to make it stand up much more than gravity might have allowed under normal circumstances. Her frame demanded attention, heavyset but strong of character. However, nothing about her was quite so big as the heart buried beneath the many layers of the coat and jumper she currently adorned herself with on this particularly nippy September morning. Sarah would never trust someone as much as she trusted her.

They stopped in front of a large brick pillar, the numbers nine and ten plastered above on either side. Sarah’s stomach lurched and her palms began to sweat against the bar of the trolley. A cold prickling of nerves rushed down her back. Aunt Mary placed a hand against her shoulder blades, gently rubbing back and forth. Sarah flinched before settling into the contact. She breathed deeply and licked her lips.

“Aunt Mary, I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted, eyes locked onto the stone barrier. It was the last thing separating her from her inevitable future.

“Dear, it’s going to be alright,” Aunt Mary assured her, hand giving her a few soft pats before drawing back. Sarah blinked and shifted her gaze up to meet the compassionate face in front of her. “I know how hard this must be for you, but it’ll be good in the long run. I promise you. You know I would never lie to you.”

Sarah searched her aunt’s face before sighing and glancing towards the ground. She knew her aunt was telling the truth. Though no matter how much she always told herself that, her mind kept fighting with her on it. Nothing was ever completely certain. She was all too aware of that. Life wasn’t all fun and games, especially not now. Not with terror potentially lurking around every corner.

As much as her body wanted to fight her on this, she knew there was no other way around it. It’s not like she could avoid this forever. She would have to go through the barrier and face her fears. If her aunt said it would be safer at Hogwarts for her, then she would choose to believe her–regardless of her body’s constant anxiety about the whole mess.

Steeling herself, Sarah lifted her chin, upturned nose pointing in the air as she once again eyed the barrier in front of her. Her aunt stepped aside and gave a small smile. With a deep breath and a thundering heart, Sarah rushed forward. Her trolley easily phased through the stone pillar. Muggles hurried past, none the wiser as the seemingly solid structure rippled in the wake of two magical beings passing through in broad daylight. It was almost as if they weren’t able to see it at all.

A wrought iron archway greeted them as they stepped out from the other side. Platform nine and three-quarters was right in front of their eyes. ‘Hogwarts Express’ glittered in gold letters atop the black tipped end of the scarlet train. Great, billowing clouds of steam rose from the railway, lapping at the metal body. Hooting and the scrape of trunks against concrete seeped out from the crowd of people along the platform. The unmistakable tingle of magic crackled in the air. Sarah’s muscles tensed as she stepped forward. Deep breaths.

Witches and wizards of all ages seemed to be rushing in all directions, shooting like bullets across the platform. Some were pulling children along while others were giving tearful goodbyes. A few adults were scattered about, Daily Prophets clutched tightly in hand. Sarah could clearly see their headlines as they passed by. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Still at Large' read one, a grim black and white photo of the dark mark shimmering across the page. 'Another Family Found Dead' said another, grim and tearful faces blinking in despair underneath the headline. 'Minister of Magic Urges Caution' said the last. Millicent Bagnold, the current Minister, stood with a grave face amidst the lines of text. Sarah had to rip her eyes away from the newspapers. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the knot tightened once again. Static prickled along her arms. The anxiety inside of her was slowly building.

“Sarah,” called Aunt Mary, grasping her shoulder lightly. Sarah jerked, startled. The static dissipated from her skin. “Are you alright?”

Sarah took a moment to compose her feelings. She really needed to get a hold on herself, this wasn’t the time or place for this. She was safe. Things would be fine. Aunt Mary said so. As she looked out into the crowd once more, she noticed some peculiar looking witches and wizards she hadn’t recognized before. Men and women with long cloaks draped atop their uniforms scanned the families littered about the platform. Their expressions were pinched with purpose, wands in full display as they walked along the edges of the room.

“Who are all those people?” Sarah asked, pointedly skipping over her aunt’s question. Aunt Mary cocked her head before looking out to the serious-faced witches and wizards surveying the room.

“Those are just Aurors, sweetie,” she answered. Sarah nodded in recognition. She knew plenty about those kinds of people. “They’re just here to make sure everyone stays safe.”

Sarah admittedly did feel better knowing that there were plenty of skilled witches and wizards watching over the platform. She gripped at the trolley bar and pushed forward. Several other children were scattered about as she and her aunt made their way to the train cars.

“Mum, have you seen my wand?” called a freckle faced boy about Sarah’s age, fluffy brown hair bouncing as he turned in circles.

“Honestly Toby, you had it just five minutes ago,” sighed a much older witch, dark circles tugging at her lower lids.

Another boy with hair fine and light as silk rolled his eyes nearby, thin eyebrows scrunched downwards on his equally thin face. He turned his attention back to the books in front of him. Aviators slid precariously down his nose as he squinted at the titles.

“Alan, make sure not to forget any of your books. You better take lots of notes in your classes, and I don't want to hear about you skiving off, you hear me?” said a wizard dressed in a stuffy-looking shirt, equally large glasses weighing heavily on his face.

“Yes, father,” replied the boy flatly.

A boy and a girl of similar stature were arguing beside one of the train’s entryways as Sarah continued down the line. They were effectively blocking all others from entering the train with their antics.

“Amelia, give that back!,” fussed a rather short, brown haired boy. He pulled aggressively at her robes. The lanky, dirty-blonde haired girl resisted, clinging to the doorway.

“Ewan, let go!” said the girl, kicking her leg back to detach him in vain.

Sarah pushed past the hoards of other children to the very last railway carriage on the train. It may have been a futile attempt to prolong the inevitable, but she couldn’t help herself. This would be the first time she ever stayed somewhere that wasn’t her Aunt Mary’s or her Aunt Patricia and Uncle Alfred’s place. Her nerves buzzed with uncertainty.

“Alright, you have all your things then, dear? Got all your books and vials? Nothing out of sorts?” asked Aunt Mary. Sarah nodded, patting the bumbag at her side. Aunt Mary’s eyes crinkled as a sad smile spread across her face. “Now, don’t forget to take your medicine every night before bed. Professor Dumbledore will see to the rest.”

Sarah nodded again, lips tight and eyes stinging with the burgeoning of tears. A pained expression crossed Aunt Mary’s face before she swept her up into a tight hug. Sarah stiffened and let out a small, choked sob before clinging back to her. She was entirely enveloped in comfort and the smell of spices. After taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and the subsequent tingling inside her skin, she squeezed back tightly.

“I-I’m going to mi-miss you,” stuttered Sarah, small frame shaking with the effort to keep composed. Aunt Mary held her tighter, one hand gently petting at her upper back.

“I know, sweetie. I know. I’m going to miss you too,” soothed Aunt Mary, giving her one last squeeze before pulling away. Her eyes fell to the younger witch’s own puffy, tear stained ones. “I’ll write you every week, tell you all about everything back home. You try and make some nice friends while you’re up at school, that’s a good girl.” She gave a soft smile and wiped a tear from Sarah’s cheek. Sarah scrunched her eyes shut and nodded swiftly, using her sleeves to scrub at her face.

After a few more tender minutes between the two, it was finally time for Sarah to get on board. She gave one last tearful wave and a small smile before lugging her trunk into the corridor of the train. Several other children from ages eleven and up were shuffling up and down the thin walkway. Lowering her gaze to the dusty wooden floor, Sarah started forward. The conversations surrounding her were impossible to ignore.

"Did you hear about the Brackenburys? I heard they were targeted last night.”

"My neighbors house was ransacked a month ago, still gives me nightmares."

"You don't think You-Know-Who will try to attack the school, do you?"

Sarah’s pulse quickened at the thought and she swallowed thickly. She didn’t want to let herself ruminate on all of the possibilities that could befall them at any moment. It was already difficult enough controlling her emotions as it was, she didn’t want the potential reaction of strangers to make it even worse. With a heavy sigh, she placed a hand to her heart and closed her eyes for a moment. Things will be alright, things will be alright, things will be alright, she chanted to herself. Her aunt’s words echoed in her mind alongside her own. She just needed to relax. The Aurors would protect them. There was no need for her to make such a fuss right now.

After dragging her trunk to the back of the coach, she managed to peer into a thankfully empty compartment. The idea of trying to walk into a compartment with even a single other person inside made her skin crawl. She would rather sit out in the corridor the whole trip than try and force her presence on someone else. Her insides squirmed unpleasantly at the thought. Sighing with slight relief, she slid open the doors and stepped inside.

Once her trunk had been sufficiently stowed away in the corner, Sarah let herself fall back onto the cushioned green seats. Her legs twitched with anticipation as the stuffy smell of old wood and cotton filled her nose. She was really going to Hogwarts. Just a few years ago she never would have believed she would be sitting in these very seats. She winced at the memories and shoved them from her mind. 

A whistle sounded overhead and the compartment jerked slightly as the train began to move forward. After waving out of the window to her aunt in the distance, Sarah laid her head back in despair. That was it. She was officially off on her own. There was no telling what was going to happen from here. How was school going to go? Would she like her professors? Would they like her? That was an even more difficult question. She didn’t want to make any trouble for anyone.

She didn’t have the answers to any of these questions, or the even more pressing one currently clawing at the back of her mind. What house was she going to be sorted in? Her Aunt Mary had been in Ravenclaw, but her Aunt Patricia and Uncle Alfred were both in Gryffindor. Was she destined to be in one of those? Her body gave a shudder at the alternative. No, she knew she didn’t have to worry about that. Not realistically. She wasn’t like them.

  
The sound of the compartment door cracking open startled Sarah from her thoughts. A round faced girl with wild blonde curls poked her head through the opening. Sarah blinked a few times in surprise. Her voice caught in her throat as she looked at the unknown intruder.

“Er... Hi,” said the girl in a squeaky voice, a flush spreading over her freckled cheeks. Her wide hazel eyes flickered from Sarah’s face down to the floor and then back again like a kicked puppy. “Would it, er, would it be alright if I sat in here with you? My compartment kicked me out.” Her wide mouth pressed into a tight line as her gaze shifted away once more.

“S.. sure,” Sarah said after a moment before she could stop herself. So much for having a room to herself. Perhaps if she stayed relatively quiet, the other girl wouldn’t try to engage her too much. She had promised her Aunt Mary she would try to make friends at school, but in her defence she wasn’t at school yet. They had only left the station mere minutes ago. She wasn’t emotionally–or mentally–prepared to try just yet. As the other girl stashed her trunk in the opposite corner and sat down gratefully with a wide smile, it seemed she wouldn’t be given a choice in the matter.

“Thanks! I was worried you weren’t going to let me stay,” the girl laughed sheepishly, the corners of her lips pulled far back into her cheeks. “So, my name’s Claire. Claire Lockwood.” The girl looked at Sarah expectantly, friendly smile never leaving her face. Sarah’s hands fidgeted against the hem of her shirt as she avoided her gaze. She suddenly felt very self conscious about her own face.

“Er, my name's Sarah,” she forced out, biting at the inside of her lip. “Sarah Williams.”

“That’s a pretty name!” exclaimed Claire, eyes lighting up. “Are you a first year too? I am. I’m so excited to get to Hogwarts and really start learning all about everything. I tried looking through my books already, can’t understand a thing, but it still all seems so exciting! Well, maybe not everything. I’ve heard History of Magic is supposed to be really boring. Oh! Except it’s taught by a ghost, can you believe that? I didn’t believe my uncle when he said so, but some of the upperclassmen back on the platform said it was true! I have no idea how my brother’s going to take it when he starts in a couple years.”

Sarah’s head was spinning with the speed of the words leaving Claire’s mouth. Was it really possible for someone to talk that fast? She stared ahead as Claire carried on, unaware of the impression she was leaving. Sarah was starting to understand why she had been kicked out of the last compartment she sat in.

“His name’s Stuart. He’s kind of a baby so I’m always taking the mickey out of him for it. He’s rather nice though, if you can get past all his whinging all the time. Besides, I– woah! Blimey, what happened to your _eye_?” The moment it left her lips, regret washed over her face.

Sarah quickly turned to face the floor, a blush creeping up her cheeks. It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected something like this to happen. Just, not entirely like that. She knew her face was messed up. There was no denying that. That didn’t mean it was any less embarrassing to talk about. With a sigh, she turned back to face the mortified looking girl across from her.

“I’m so sorry!” Claire nearly shouted, hands up in defense. “I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” Sarah said, waving her off. She swallowed thickly and pressed on. “I got hit in the head when I was little. Messed with my head a bit. I'm alright now. Well, other than this,” she gestured at her left eye, pupil dilated much wider than the right. “It doesn’t hurt or anything though. Bright lights kind of sting sometimes, but that’s about it.”

Claire looked fascinated with Sarah’s words. She bit her lip and her eyebrows scrunched together. Sarah flushed under the blatant observation.

“It looks really cool,” said Claire with a nod. Sarah raised a brow at her. “Makes you look like you have a monocle on all the time. Quite distinguished.”

Sarah couldn't help but grin at the way Claire pretended to stroke at a nonexistent moustache. She may be loud, and perhaps a bit tactless, but she seemed nice enough. Maybe she could try and make friends after all.

“So,” Claire continued on, trying to move past the sensitive bit of conversation, “What class are you excited to take?”

Sarah pursed her lips in thought. That was a pretty difficult question. She had heard a bit about a few of the teachers and classes from her cousin Laura when visiting her aunt and uncle’s whenever she was in town. She had indeed known about Professor Binns being a ghost. Though, from the way her cousin had went on about it, it didn’t really do much to make the class any less boring.

Then there was Professor McGonagall. She was the Head of Gryffindor House and taught transfiguration. From what Laura said, she was a very stern woman. Not in a bad way, though. Sarah briefly wondered if she would ever end up getting into trouble with her if she was sorted into Gryffindor.

She had only heard inklings of the other professors over time. As her aunt and uncle had been very proud of their own house, her cousin Laura was as well. So, most of what she heard revolved around Gryffindor over the last few years. She felt slightly intimidated at the idea of being a part of it.

The only other professor she really knew that much about was Professor Slughorn. He was the potions master and was known to show a bit of favoritism. According to her cousin Laura, however, he was a mostly kind man. Sarah had a hard time believing that though, all things considered.

“I’m not sure,” Sarah finally admitted. “I’m not that great with my wand so… anything not involving that as much.” She smiled sheepishly. A few weeks prior, she had attempted to try out a few of the spells in her copy of Standard Book of Spells to no avail. Instead of lighting the tip of her wand with lumos, she had instead managed to catch the sitting room’s curtains on fire. Aunt Mary hadn’t been very happy about that particular accident.

“Oh, you’d probably like maybe herbology or potions,” concluded Claire with a thoughtful nod. “I’m no good at herbology though. I’m looking forward to flying class, myself. It’s absolute rubbish that first years can’t join the quidditch teams. I’m planning on being a famous player when I grow up so I need to join as soon as possible.”

Sarah nodded, though she didn’t know if she should bring up her cousin Laura or not. Would it be considered bragging if she mentioned she was related to someone playing for the Wimbourne Wasps? She didn’t even know if they were particularly popular or not. Quidditch had never been that big of an interest for her to begin with. Was she expected to know these sorts of things? She preferred more quiet activities. Though, who knows? Maybe after trying it she might end up liking it. Laura certainly seemed to love it, always going on about it every time she came home.

Before she could decide whether or not to bring up this bit of information, a loud bang shook the room, sending both Sarah and Claire toppling over in their seats. Several screams reverberated through the air as another crack shot through the air. Blinding light flashed through the window. Sarah winced and covered her face, head pulsing from the contact it had made with the wall beside the seat.

A gasp escaped her as she squinted into the distance, an elaborate silver masked figure flying past the window. She nearly shouted in fright as she leapt up from her spot against the wall. Claire groaned as she righted herself

“What’s going on?” cried Claire, backing farther into the corner closest to the door. A faint buzzing permeated the air as Sarah threw the small curtains closed against the window. She slid down to the floor and clutched at her chest, trying and failing not to hyperventilate. It was them. They were actually here. She needed to hide–needed to get out of here. The buzzing sound grew louder and Claire looked on in alarm at the shadows zipping past the curtain as they grew fainter and fainter. The light inside the compartment was glowing brighter and brighter.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, Sarah chanted to herself, hands now gripped tightly into her hair. Stay calm, stay still, they won’t find you.

A thundering crash jostled their compartment once more and another shriek pierced the air. Claire scrambled from her spot and kneeled down beside Sarah. Her hand was smacked away promptly as she tried to reach towards the other girl. Sarah’s eyes were wide, right pupil shrunk down in fear as the light in the room buzzed angrily.

“D-don’t touch me!” shrieked Sarah, bringing her knees up to her chest. Claire shrunk back and huddled against the other corner. Her eyebrows knit together as her eyes flickered about the compartment..

“Death Eaters!” cried a voice from outside the doorway. The light inside the compartment burst and they were plunged into darkness. Sarah hugged her knees, effectively curling herself up against the wall, eyes clenched shut. Bursts of red flashed behind her eyelids as spells blasted past the curtained window. Claire looked on in fear and concern, hazel eyes opened wide.

A commotion erupted out in the corridor as a few people ran past, bumping into one another. A body made contact with the compartment doors, banging against it loudly. Sarah jumped from the noise and buried her head in her knees. The sound of splintering glass cracked through the room. Then, suddenly, silence fell upon them. The screaming ceased, the blasts from beyond the compartment came to an end, the gentle spin of the wheels against the railway now the only sound audible in the distance.

Sarah raised her head from her knees, tear stricken face looking out into the darkened room. Claire met her gaze with equally pinched brows worrying at her face. Her mouth opened to speak and her eyes opened further in surprise. Sarah made to ask her what was wrong but found that in doing so, answered her own question. She couldn’t speak. Before she could properly process this, a loud voice echoed over their heads.

“Attention, please remain calm. I repeat, please remain calm. The train is safe. There is no more cause for alarm. Please return to your respective compartments at this time. Our estimated time of arrival is 7 p.m. sharp.”

Sarah blinked in relief and let out a small cough as her throat began working again. Her body was shaking as she leaned against the wall beneath the window. Claire cleared her throat as well, steadily rising to her feet. She made to reach down to Sarah as well, offering her hand, but quickly drew it back after a second thought. Sarah winced at the display and lowered her eyes to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shrinking in on herself. Claire bit at her lip before shaking her head.

“It’s alright,” Claire assured her. “That was rather scary, wasn’t it?” Sarah nodded her head stiffly. She glanced at Claire’s hand, still slightly outstretched from before. Noticing this, Claire extended her arm and allowed Sarah to grab on, carefully helping pull her to her feet. They both dusted themselves off and shared nervous smiles.

“We could have actually died back there. That was absolutely mental,” Claire said with a nervous laugh. “Are you alright?”

Sarah took a deep breath, composing herself. She nodded slowly, lips pulled tight. Her heart was still threatening to leap out from her chest cavity, but other than that she was absolutely fantastic. Claire was right, they could have actually died back there. But–just as her aunt had assured her–they were indeed alright. The Aurors had really managed to keep the train safe. This would probably be all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning. She needed to send an owl to her aunt as soon as she got the opportunity.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Breathing at least,” Sarah replied. “What about you?”

“Could be better, but yeah me too,” Claire laughed, plopping back onto the seat behind her. “Head hurts a bit though. I wonder what they were doing to the train to make it shake like that. I thought we were about to fall over.”

Sarah could say the same. She’d never felt a train tip like that before. Then again, she hadn’t been on many trains to begin with.

“And that light too! I didn’t know those could blow out like that,” commented Claire, looking back to the now softly glowing light above the compartment. Sarah flushed, laughing nervously in agreement.

A sudden knock had both of them jumping in place. The door gently slid open to reveal a dimpled old woman pushing a trolley full of sweets. Both of the younger witches relaxed immediately and looked on in awe. It was like an entire sweet shop on wheels.

“Anything off the trolley, dears? Compliments of the conductor,” she said sweetly. Sarah could see now that the older woman looked rather battered, her greying curls mildly rustled atop her head. It was safe to say, however, that yes they did in fact want some sweets from the trolley. They weren’t about to turn down free food.

With chocolate frogs, liquorice wands and a few pumpkin pasties split between the two of them, they soon pushed their worries from their minds. It was weird how living in a time filled with constant unpleasantness made it that much easier to block out the more shocking events in their lives. Morning turned to afternoon and afternoon turned to evening as they whiled away the hours with one another. Sarah learned that Claire’s parents ran a shop together in Diagon Alley, The Herbologist’s Glasshouse. They were herbologists that sold and cared for every plant under the sun, within the legal parameters of course. Claire, on the other hand, couldn’t do a thing with plants. It seemed that any plant that so much as grazed her fingertips were destined to die. Needless to say, Claire wasn’t allowed to help with any of the pruning or maintenance of even the most harmless of plants. Her brother Stuart usually helped with those sorts of things. Instead, she was in charge of stocking the more mundane things such as fertilizer, herbicides, and tools. Claire said that she sometimes joked that at this rate she’d never be sorted into Hufflepuff. Sarah cocked her head in confusion.

“Hufflepuff?” she asked seriously.

“Yeah,” said Claire, “Most of my family has been Hufflepuff since forever and a half ago. What about yours?”

Sarah was still trying to digest what Claire had said. Then again, it did make sense. She had just never heard anyone talk about that particular house with such pride before. Most people always talked about how Huffelpuff is full of a lot of duffers. There was almost as much negativity associated with it as there was for Slytherin. Though, with the latter, she couldn’t exactly say she disagreed.

“Uh, well, it’s kind of split down the middle,” said Sarah, parting the air in front of her. “Gryffindor and Ravenclaw mostly.” Claire’s face fell slightly at this revelation. The disappointment was clear as day.

“Ah, that’s too bad. I’d hoped we could end up together,” she admitted. “Maybe I really might not be in Hufflepuff afterall. Pretty sure it’s illegal or something for a plant-killer to get in.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind what house I get into–as long as it’s not Slytherin,” said Sarah, sticking her tongue out in disgust. Claire’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Why, what’s wrong with Slytherin?” Claire asked seriously. Sarah was gobsmacked. Did she really not realize?

“Well, for one, everybody that ends up bad came from there. Even the Dark Lord was from that house,” Sarah grimaced. “Everyone knows that.” She couldn’t understand how Claire could overlook something so obvious.

Claire gave her a hard look, lips pouting to the side. She raised her brows and gave a sigh before looking out the window. Sarah watched her as Claire drummed her fingers against the cushioned seat.

“I don’t think the house itself is bad,” said Claire, seriously. “Or that everyone in it has to be like that. I don’t think people should be judged by something that other people have done. It should be based on the person themselves.”

Sarah watched her, biting her lip in thought before shifting her gaze out the window as well. Night had already fallen. The moonlight shone softly down onto the trees as the train rolled by. She couldn’t help but privately agree with what Claire was trying to say, but something kept her back from replying. Sure, the person mattered more than some silly label. However, this was still Slytherin they were talking about. The snake. This was completely different. This was the Dark Lord’s origin and probably every death eater who followed him. Anywhere people like that came from had to be bad… right? Of course it was. How could they not be? She wouldn’t even entertain the thought of anything different. That was how people got hurt. She knew at least that much.

A voice suddenly echoed throughout the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken up to the school separately.” 

Sarah and Claire exchanged looks as the booming voice faded. It looks like the time had finally come. After eight long hours, they had finally made it–and in one piece no less. She would need to personally thank the Aurors if she ever managed to see them again.

“We should probably get changed,” said Claire, hopping up from her seat and heading over to her trunk. Sarah nodded and pushed herself up as well. She couldn’t help but ruminate on the conversation from before. She just couldn’t see how Claire could feel so neutral about something so clearly bad. Claire was wrong, obviously. She was just too trusting and couldn’t see the reality of things. Slytherin was a bad house, and the people in it were just as bad. That’s just how it was and that was never going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who made it this far! I hope to hear your thoughts and see you all in the next chapter!
> 
> (Also don't worry, character growth is a central theme of this fic.)


	2. Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally gotten two betas so thank you to Beebeecait for help with this chapter, and a future thank you to The_Lost_Flower for all future chapters!

Chapter 2

Doubts

The tension constricted the air around them as Sarah and Claire stepped out onto the small platform, countless other children spilling out around them. Goosebumps rose on Sarah’s arms underneath her cloak from the cold night air. She glanced back at Claire to see her peering around the platform, clearly just as confused at what they were supposed to be doing as she was. Several other kids around their age seemed to be thinking along the same lines. The chatter surrounding them was deafening. Many were still discussing the events on the train from earlier that day. The boy she remembered as Alan from the train station looked particularly annoyed with the whole situation, standing off to her left with a sneer.

A bright yellow light bobbed over their heads, cutting through the gentle moonlight filtering from between the small buildings surrounding them. Sarah gasped as she saw a large figure break into view. Her foot nearly slipped off the back of the white painted edge of the platform, banging her shoulder into the train cart behind her. Claire turned to her in worry before following her friend’s gaze. Her jaw dropped.

A great, bushy, giant of a man had walked onto the platform. Thick brown hair seemed to cover every inch of his head, leaving only sparkling beetle-black eyes and a large bulbous nose in view. He wore what appeared to be a barely held together coffee brown waistcoat, secured with a wide black belt with a shaggy, oversized coat over top. Massive black boots stomped against the stone as he slipped his way between the students. Sarah had never seen someone so large in her life. A prickling of fear buzzed down the back of her neck and she clutched herself tighter against the train, leaning over the gap. It was then that she realised the man had been speaking into the crowd.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! This way, follow me please!" called the giant, hand curved next to his mouth like a megaphone. Sarah blinked in surprise and turned to meet Claire’s equally bewildered gaze. Claire shrugged and shook her head, wide mouth set into a tight line, clearly not having been aware of this little detail herself. Many other first years exchanged tentative and worrisome looks before hesitantly stepping forward. Others look positively delighted at the sight of the man. Sarah considered herself to belong to the former.

"Any more firs' years?" bellowed the man as Sarah and Claire finally joined the group of equally confused children gathered around the giant. Sarah was astonished. How could a man be so incredibly… large? Surely this wasn’t allowed. His hands alone looked large enough to grab her head like a bowling ball.

"This way! Firs' years follow me! C'mon now, watch yer step! 'S a bit slippery on the way down,” called the giant of a man over his shoulder, already beginning to make his way to the end of the platform. A few kids stumbled as they started down the path after him. Claire shuffled alongside the other students, Sarah trailing at her heels. She couldn’t help but stare at the untamed mane of hair rippling in frizzy heaps over the man’s back and shoulders. He looked positively wild.

Towering shadows of trees stretched skyward on either side of the narrow path as they followed the unnamed man. Sarah stuck close to Claire as they walked along. A nervous tension filled her guts. Was this safe? They were supposed to be following this stranger, right? It’s not like they had been spontaneously kidnapped or anything. She certainly hoped so at least. What awful luck that would be. Not that she would exactly be surprised.

The first years walked almost single file behind the giant, slipping and stumbling over one another on the slick earth beneath their trainers. Stars twinkled high above their heads. The soft scent of dewy grass filled Sarah’s nose as they rounded a bend. The trees were beginning to thin out the farther along they went and Sarah was grateful for the increased visibility. 

"Almos' there. Yeh'll get yer firs' sigh' o' Hogwarts in jus' a sec," the giant called back over his shoulder again. "Jus' right round here." 

A loud chorus of oohs and ahs filled the air as the trees dispersed, giving way to a beautiful sight. The narrow path had opened up to an enormous clearing. A pitch black lake stretched out before them, shining like smooth glass in the pale moonlight. Across the vast pool of water stood great hills of stone and grass, perched atop of which sat an equally enormous castle standing tall and proud against the backdrop of the night sky. Impressive towers and turrets erupting from its roof that stretched up towards the stars. Soft, glowing yellow light filtered out from the multitude of windows adorning the castle’s walls. Sarah stared on in awe.

"Now then, move along there! No more'n four to a boat!" called the man, snapping them all from their daze. Sarah looked out to see a small fleet of boats docked against the pier jutting out over the lake. Claire darted for the closest one and Sarah followed quickly behind. They both squeaked as Claire nearly jostled the boat onto its side. The offending blonde gave a nervous giggle, shooting Sarah an apologetic look. Sarah laughed behind her hand in response.

They were joined by two other girls before they pushed off, a wispy haired blonde and a thick haired brunette sitting along the other end. The cool, wooden boat creaked with the extra weight. Small ripples bubbled out from underneath the boat along the surface of the lake, causing the stars reflected to sparkle in their wake. Sarah looked down at the dark water stretched out far into the distance in wonderment. Out of the corner of her eye, Claire was busy getting an even closer look. The other girls seated across from them kept shooting her rather uncomfortable glances.

"Please keep yer hands an' feet inside the boat now. Would'n wan' yeh lot to go fallin' in,” called the man at the front of the fleet of boats. Claire righted herself immediately, a blush creeping up over her cheeks. Sarah snorted behind her hand earning a pout from her friend. 

"Everyone in?" asked the large man, sitting in a boat all to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the boats surged forward, slicing through the lake like a knife through butter. Twin waves trailed at either side of their boats as they sailed towards the castle. Sarah’s eyes opened wide, lips parting at the sight of it as they made their way closer and closer. The sheer size alone had been so intimidating from a distance, up close it was beyond believable. Was she really going to be staying in a place as magnificent as this? She could barely believe it.

"Heads down!" the bearded man shouted as they came closer to the side of the mountain cliff. Large slabs of stone encircled what appeared to be the mouth to a large black cave, surrounded by greenery and shadows. The little boats slid under the thick curtain of ivy one by one. A small enclosure was waiting on the other side. As soon as the boats were successfully docked, everyone clambered onto the rocky shore. The air was warmer here and Sarah felt grateful for the change in atmosphere.

As she and Claire trudged along the wet pebbles and rocks leading up to the small set of stairs, the reality of her situation began to set in. Sarah’s heart thumped in her ears and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It wouldn’t be too much longer now. A dull ache pulsed behind her left eye and she winced. Claire glanced at her as they traversed up the steps, an eyebrow raised at her pained display. Sarah waved her off and continued up the staircase. She would be fine, it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to already.

"Everyone here? Not missing no one?" the giant asked, looking out into the crowd of children. He surveyed the many eyes looking up at him from the torch-lit room and nodded to himself. All seemed to be in order as he turned to face the door again, raising one giant fist. A deafening boom sounded with each knock. Claire stepped closer to Sarah, hands crossed over her chest. After a minute or so of complete silence, the doors finally opened wide.

A rather severe looking woman draped in an emerald green cloak appeared in the doorway. Black hair pulled up tightly underneath a large pointed hat of similar fashion sitting atop her head. Her mouth was pinched into a fine line as her eyes peered down at them over her spectacles. Blue eyes met honey brown and Sarah averted her gaze. Just making eye contact was enough to make her feel guilty. She hadn’t even done anything yet. Whoever this woman was, she definitely didn’t want to get on her bad side.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said the large man, looking rather proud of himself as he gestured to the lot of them. Ah, that explains it then. So that was who Professor McGonagall was. Her cousin wasn’t lying when she had told Sarah she was strict. She hadn’t even spoken to her yet and she already felt like she was being watched like a hawk.

“Thank you Hagrid,” said Professor McGonagall, nodding to the man. “I’ll take them from here.”

Sarah was happy to finally have a name for the mystery man that had led them through a dark forest and across an enormous lake. It put her significantly more at ease. Hagrid returned her nod and stepped out of the way for them to pass, or at least as much as he was physically able to. The edges of his eyes crinkled as they passed and Sarah noticed a smile under his bushy beard. From this angle, he didn’t look quite so scary anymore. She felt bad for her initial impression of him.

As they walked inside, Sarah couldn't help but let out a gasp. Even with how large the outside of the castle had appeared, she hadn’t been truly prepared for just how incredibly massive it was on the inside. Was that just something she was going to need to get used to? Giant lakes, giant men and giant castles? She was starting to feel even smaller than she usually did.

The entrance hall was gargantuan, stone walls stretching up into the heavens with no discernible end in sight. Torches adorned the walls at regular intervals, bathing the overwhelmingly large room in a warm, gently swaying glow. Several moving portraits hung along the walls, their subjects eagerly looking down at all of them. It was all very impressive and nothing at all like back home.

Sarah openly gaped at her surroundings. A beautiful, and equally large, marble staircase stood proudly before them, climbing up high along the walls. Sarah wondered exactly how many floors could exist in a place as expansive as this. Besides that, the amount of rooms must be astronomical. How on earth was she going to be expected to find her way anywhere in this place? She just knew she was going to get lost at the first opportunity. Her sense of direction was near non-existent.

The constant buzz of hundreds of conversations leaked through a doorway to their right as they walked by. Sarah surmised that the rest of the student body must be behind those doors. Instead of being led into the room, however, the group of children found themselves ushered into a small corridor off to the side. They all squeezed in the best they could, shoulders rubbing against their neighbours’. The pit of anxiety grew and Sarah’s skin tingled unpleasantly. It was difficult to breathe.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall, hands held together stiffly in front of her. “The start-of-term banquet shall begin momentarily, but before you take your seats among your fellow students, you will be sorted into your houses. The ceremony is very important because, while you are here, your House will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw… and Slytherin,” she said this last bit like an unpleasant taste had crawled over her tongue. “Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Sarah held onto every word, her gaze magnetized to the Professor standing before them. Professor McGonagall’s eyes surveyed the crowd of first years, narrowing her eyes at a pair of grumbling students shoving at each other in one corner. Noticing her piercing gaze, they ceased at once. Her lips thinned before she turned her attention back to the rest of the group.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly until my return.” And with that, she turned and shut them inside all alone. A breath escaped Sarah that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Her arms still tingled with the close proximity to all of the other children, but without Professor McGonagall’s eyes locked onto her, she felt much more at ease. Now they just had to wait.

“Wow, she’s super scary,” commented Claire with a nervous laugh now that the aforementioned woman was gone. Sarah nodded stiffly in agreement. The room felt completely different now. The tension seemed to have completely dissipated now that they were left alone. Well–for a moment at least.

“Amelia, you’re standing on my foot!  _ Move over! _ ” groaned the brown haired boy Sarah had seen on the platform earlier that day. It seemed him and the other girl were arguing again. Sarah let out an irritated sigh as Claire looked on in interest.

“ _ You _ move, Ewan,” glared Amelia, lips pursed as she shoved him. Sarah didn’t understand why they continued staying next to one another if they seemed to dislike each other so much. She glanced back to the large doors. Hopefully Professor McGonagall wouldn’t be back in time to see this.

“Augh, Amelia you’re so stup–AH!” Ewan yelped, jumping about a foot in the air. He tumbled back into a few other boys standing behind him as he stared forward in horror.

A disembodied grin had appeared behind Amelia, floating in midair above their heads. Amelia shrieked and leapt from the spot. Several students backed up in surprise. More than a few toes were trodden on as they all tried to put as much space between themselves and the strange, twisted floating smile as possible. A cackle broke through the air as the rest of the figment's body audibly _popped_ into existence. The strange floating man peered down at them all and his eyes pinched in delight.

“Ooooooooooh, ickle firsties! What luck for old Peevesy!” cackled the small man, lips curling deviously. The two students who had been arguing before were now huddled together in fear. Sarah shrunk herself up against a wall. As if sensing the anxiety radiating off of her, she found herself locking eyes with the strange creature. A snicker escaped him and Sarah’s legs locked in place. Another voice broke through the stunned silence as he beelined towards her.

“PEEVES!”

Peeves stopped short, flipping in the air upside-down to look at the opposite wall as what could only be described as two ghosts came flying through the wall. He cackled once more at the furious faces now glaring daggers at him.

“Was just having a bit of fun, I was. Ain’t done nothing yet,” said Peeves with a mischievous grin, rolling through the air with a nasty laugh. His eyes locked back onto Sarah.

“Peeves you leave them alone this instant, don’t you make me get the Bloody Baron!” puffed a rather ruffled looking ghost. The offending man merely blew a rather loud raspberry in response before shooting off in the other direction. The two ghosts sighed in exasperation and looked out to the first years still quivering below. Now though, for an entirely different reason.

“Sorry about that,” said the other ghost, a sweet smile pulling at his lips as his hands rested atop his rather large belly. “Don’t mind him, he’s mostly harmless.”

“In any case,” interrupted the ghost from before, ruffled collar puffing up as he floated forward. “my name is Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington and let me personally welcome you all to Hogwarts!” smiled the ghost. A few students smiled in return, the general unease dispelling from the room.

“Oh, you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” cried a girl with wild red hair, blue eyes lighting up in delight.. “I know you!”

Nearly Headless Nick’s face fell and the other ghost beside him let out a hearty chuckle. He seemed to shake it off rather quickly and gave a rather begrudging nod. Sarah’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as the memory struck her. How had she not realized who he was? Laura had talked about him near constantly a couple of summers ago. The surrealness of seeing an actual ghost for the first time must have short circuited her head for a second there. She knew they existed, even knew one was teaching in this very castle, but had never actually seen one in person before. It was the other ghost that she had no recollection of at all, however.

“Well, the sorting should be soon. We should be off. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the jovial ghost, robes swaying as he made his way to the doors.

“I think you mean Gryffindor, my dear Friar!” laughed Nearly Headless Nick as he gave a bow with a flourish of his wrist, turning to follow suit. The pair phased through the wall beside the doorway and they were left with quiet once again. Claire looked beside herself, a wide grin on her face.

“That was the Fat Friar!” she said in a hushed, excited whisper. Sarah raised an eyebrow before realising who she was talking about. That would explain the odd robes. Claire seemed beside herself, almost as if she had met some sort of celebrity. Sarah was beginning to get the idea that Claire might be a little over excitable at times.

The newfound silence of the room was rather short lived as the doors creaked open once again. Professor McGonagall stepped in from the doorway, head held high as she peered down at them all. It was almost like the tension had never left.

“They’re ready for you now,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please form an orderly line and follow me.” She turned at once and began to head slowly out of the corridor, leaving them no time to doddle. Sarah scrambled behind Claire while a girl with ashy-blonde hair fell in line behind her. She gave Sarah a nervous smile when she glanced back, who gave a small smile in return.

As they passed through the doors into the Great Hall, Sarah–for perhaps the hundredth time that night–looked in awe. A great inky-black sky speckled with stars floated above their heads as candles bobbed weightless underneath. Four long tables, two at each of their sides as they filed along after Professor McGonagall, stretched down through the room. Hundreds of eyes stared at them from the tables as Sarah kept her own trained forward. A familiar heat had already crept its way up to her cheeks.

A single table sat at the end, longways against the back of the room with several adults seated at them in all types of clothes. Sarah guessed they must be the professors of the school. They looked rather intimidating as they gazed down at them all. A wizard with a long white beard and half moon spectacles sat in the center. He smiled as they congregated in front of the four long tables before them. Sarah recognised him as Albus Dumbledore from her History of Magic textbook. After her aunt had told her the stories about her new Headmaster, she hadn’t been able to help herself. 

While Sarah continued to study the faces of the witches and wizards seated before her, Professor McGonagall was busy quietly dragging out a four-legged stool. Sarah brought her attention back to the situation at hand as the professor placed a rather old and patchy hat on top of it. Her guts twisted uncomfortably. She slipped her hands into her robe’s pockets and began fiddling with the bits of string poking through the seams.

The group of first years stared curiously at the strange pointed hat sitting between them and the professors. Sarah didn’t remember anyone in her family telling her anything about this. What did an old hat have to do with sorting them? She didn’t have long to ponder, however, as the hat suddenly ripped at the brim and burst into song:

Though things might feel quite cold and dreary

As we take our seats, henceforth

And though we may seem down and weary

We must be strong and stay our course

For our strength shall be what binds us

Keeps us close in times of need

We of Hogwarts will not make a fuss

When it comes time to take the lead

Brave Gryffindor, hearts fight for justice true

Ravenclaw with their sharpened wit

Will lead us danger through

Dear Hufflepuff shall never quit

To protect those close at heart

And Slytherin, those cunning folk

Will always do their part

For we all share the same cloak

The hall echoed with a somewhat somber applause. Sarah wondered if all the songs the hat sang were quite as dark as the one she just heard. Perhaps it had more to do with how things were out in the world beyond these walls. She hoped one day she might be able to hear something more cheerful. It was tiring feeling so down all the time.

“When I call your name, you will come sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted,” said Professor McGonagall. “Adams, Neil!”

After a moment, a rather angular boy with choppy brown hair slipped through the mass of children, walking up onto the platform where the stool stood and sat down. Almost as soon as the hat graced the boys head, the brim opened wide–

“SLYTHERIN!” shouted the hat. Neil smiled and hopped off of the stool, walking over to the cheering table at the far end of the hall. Sarah made a face. She hoped she wouldn’t have to sit anywhere near them. Claire on the other hand, was practically jumping in place excitedly. She seemed just happy to be here. Sarah felt a small pang of jealousy.

“Barker, Jacob.”

A sandy-blond haired boy hopped up onto the stool, smiling with crinkled brown eyes. After a few moments the hat seemed to come to a decision.

“GRYFFINDOR!” cried the hat, causing the table opposite from the one before to break out in applause. That meant that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were located in the middle then. An uneasiness settled in Sarah’s stomach. She still wasn’t even sure where  _ she _ was going to end up. As “Barnes, Toby”–the forgetful fluffy haired boy from the platform– was the first to be sorted into Hufflepuff, Sarah finally was given a full layout of the room.

Gryffindor lay to the end at the right, with Hufflepuff second right after. Ravenclaw by power of elimination, must be the table directly to their left with Slytherin seated farther at the end of the room. With how long the tables were, she wouldn’t be surprised if well over a hundred students were seated along each. Her head began to swim.

“Carter, Sean” was sorted into Gryffindor while “Castle, Lucille”–the thick haired brunette from their earlier boat ride–was promptly sorted into Ravenclaw, confirming Sarah’s deductions. The young witch’s pointed nose turned skyward in pride as she made her way to the previously unchosen Ravenclaw table.

As “Collins, Bethany” was sorted into Ravenclaw, her red messy hair flipping wildly as she ran over to the table, Sarah started to feel the familiar buzz against her skin. Her stomach lurched at the idea of having to sit on top of the stool in front of the entire school. And, with a last name like hers, she was certain that she would be the last to go. The buzzing grew stronger and she shivered, trying to calm her thoughts.  _ It will be okay, it will be okay, it will be okay, _ she repeated in her head to still herself. But what if she ended up sitting next to the Slytherin table?

Her head turned as “Combe, Anne” was sorted into Gryffindor to look around the room. Several eager faces met her eyes along with a few worried frowns standing around her. Her eyes wandered to the Slytherin table and her heart rate picked up. Several quite brutish looking boys were seated along the two rows. Sarah swallowed thickly and turned to face back to the front as “Corke, Stephan” was sent to the Slytherin table she had just been eyeing.

Several more names went by as Sarah waited for her turn, beginning to perspire quite heavily. After nearly half of the first years had been called, a familiar name reached her ears. Claire gave her a small smile before making her way up to the front. Sarah was all alone now in the remaining sea of eleven year olds.

The hat seemed to be having a bit more trouble deciding on where to place Claire as nearly a minute had passed. A sympathy blush had reached Sarah’s cheeks as she watched her friend sitting in front of the school, large hat nearly swallowing her head whole. Finally, much to Claire’s probable relief, the house shouted “HUFFLEPUFF!” and off she went to join the cheering table to Sarah’s right. Claire gave her a smile and a thumbs up before turning to greet her new classmates. She didn’t seem to have any trouble trying to make new friends on her own. Sarah couldn’t say the same.

As the names dwindled down (MacFarlane, Duncan being sorted into Slytherin and Moore, Alan being sorted into Ravenclaw) another familiar girl was called to the front. The sandy-blonde haired girl who had stood behind her in line gave a nervous smile as “Nicholson, Melissa” was called. Sarah gave a small smile back like before. She could understand how she was probably feeling. At least it would be over for her soon.

Her stomach nearly dropped through to her feet when the shy girl was placed into Slytherin. She felt confused and even a little concerned. Melissa, as she now knew her to be called, hadn’t looked bad at all to her. She had seemed just as nervous as Sarah did. Maybe there was something about her she didn’t know about. People were sorted into Slytherin for a reason after all, right? Something nagged at her but she shoved it deep down. She couldn't afford to think anything different. That had already been painfully taught to her a long time ago.

Name after name was called and still Sarah found herself among the gradually shrinking group of children. Her nerves were shot and static rushed down through her insides. The candle flames flickered slightly above their heads. She wished it would be over already. Though she knew she still had plenty of time, she couldn’t help but nervously clutch at her bumbag, glass vials gently tinkling against one another. As “Ward, Amelia” and “Ward, Ewan” were both sorted into Gryffindor, Sarah had finally come to her most dreaded moment. She now stood alone on the floor surrounded by the entire student body. 

“Williams, Sarah,” said Professor McGonagall, as if there could be anyone else left at this point. Sarah breathed a shaky breath and willed her now leaden legs to carry her up the step separating her from her fate. She nervously hoisted herself up onto the stool. Clammy hands gripped at the edges of her seat as the sorting hat was placed atop her head, effectively blocking her view of the rest of the school. She felt ridiculous.

A small voice in her ear had her nearly jumping out of her skin.

“ _ Well, what have we here? _ ” said the voice softly. Sarah realised that it was, in fact, the hat talking in her ear. “ _ Now that’s very peculiar… A very strong sense of loyalty, that’s for sure–quite an eager mind as well… Now where should I put you?” _

Sarah’s mind flashed back to Claire and a small pang struck her. She desperately wished she could stay with her, even if maybe some of her family would be disappointed. Her family already had Gryffindor on one side, Ravenclaw on the other. What difference would adding Hufflepuff to the mix cause? That would give them a full set, that was, if you counted–

“ _ Hufflepuff, is it? _ ” whispered the hat, causing Sarah to tense as she grasped that the hat had been reading her thoughts. “ _ Well, if that’s what you  _ really  _ want… then let it be–” _

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

A weight lifted from Sarah’s shoulders as she hopped up off of the chair, sorting hat now pulled from her head. Claire was cheering joyfully as Sarah made her way over to the table. Her legs felt like jelly. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw that an empty seat had been saved just for her. She couldn’t have felt happier. Sarah was just glad it was finally over. She would deal with whatever her family thought of her new arrangements later.

Before Claire could express her elation at her friend’s arrival, a voice brought their attention back to the front of the hall. The sorting hat and stool were gone. Instead, Albus Dumbledore had risen to his feet behind the staff table. The room quickly quieted as he took the floor.

“Welcome!” he said, arms opened wide. His eyes seemed to sparkle behind his spectacles. “Welcome to our new students! And a welcome back to our old as well! There is still much to discuss, but I believe after the events of today a good meal is in order. Let the start-of-term feast begin!”

The sight of food lining the golden plates made Sarah’s mouth water with urgency. Now that she was finally seated and out of the direct line of sight of the entire school, she could begin to relax a bit. She helped herself to a bit of everything, piling rich mashed potatoes and gravy, sweetcorn, roast chicken, chips, and whatever else her hands could reach from where she was onto her plate. Now that her worries had been assuaged, it was much easier to relax and enjoy herself a little. Even if she was still shivering a little in the aftershock.

“That’s so weird,” said Claire thoughtfully, eyeing the head table. “Is he not here yet?”

They had just finished a rather lengthy conversation about Quidditch teams. Claire claimed she was always trying to practice at home, but her parents would only let her every so often. The broom they had wasn’t the greatest either. Sarah still hadn’t told her new friend about her cousin. At this point, the idea of bringing it up made her anxious. Wasn’t it a bit late to talk about it now? She didn’t know the rules for these sorts of things. 

Sarah, with a mouth full of cherry pie, as the plates had transitioned to several moments ago, followed her gaze up to the front table. She didn’t see anything amiss. All of the seats were full.

“Who?” asked Sarah after a moment.

“Professor Slughorn,” answered Claire. “I’ve seen pictures of him from my parents, but I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Professor Slughorn? ” said an older, dark skinned boy diagonal from them. “Oh, he retired last year. Said it was about time he did after six decades of teaching. Looked quite relieved to tell you the truth.”

“What? Really?” asked Claire in disbelief. She seemed exceedingly disappointed. Sarah, in all honesty, hadn’t known enough about the apparently now retired potions master to feel one way or the other about the matter. “So who’s going to be the new professor then?” Claire craned her neck to look back at the professors sitting up at the front table.

The older student looked over as well, dark chocolate braids falling over his shoulder. Sarah noticed something gleaming against his robes and saw a small black and yellow badge labeled ‘Prefect’ pinned against the fabric. Hooded eyes squinted as a look of contemplation crossed the prefect’s face. His eyes suddenly opened wide and his jaw dropped.

“No way!” he cried. “Is that  _ Severus _ ?” The prefect looked almost mortified. This didn’t sit well with Sarah. She looked up again at the professor’s table.

“Who’s Severus?” asked Claire, face scrunched in confusion.

Before the prefect could properly explain, the room had gone quiet once more as Dumbledore got to his feet. A soft smile graced his features as he looked out to the student body seated along the house tables. Sarah could practically feel the respect emanating from around the room.

“Now that we have all had our fill of food and drink, I believe now is the time to address some possible concerns related to today’s earlier events,” said Dumbledore, expression hardening slightly. Sarah’s mind flashed back to the train and her body shivered.

“The attack on today’s train was a very serious matter indeed,” he continued on. “Thankfully, I’m very glad to say, Voldemort’s attempts to prevent the deliverance and instruction of our young witches and wizards was foiled by our team of Aurors aboard and alongside the train. For this, I am very grateful.”

Many students, including Sarah herself, winced at the headmaster’s fearless use of You-Know-Who’s name. Still, many applauded his words. Claire in particular gave a rather exuberant response. Sarah was just thankful to be within the safety of the walls for the time being.

“While you reside in these halls, you will be under the utmost care and protection. Our staff will be sure that no harm can befall you whilst under our close supervision,” Dumbledore continued on, “Having said that, a few start of term notices are in order. Let it be known that the Forbidden Forest is, as the name implies, strictly forbidden to all students. No magic is to be used in between classes or inside of the corridors as well.

“Also, I would like to welcome a couple of new professors to our fine school. As some of you know, our dear Professor Slughorn retired at the end of last term. So, to take his place as both potions master and Head of Slytherin House, please welcome Professor Severus Snape,” he finished, clapping his hands together.

A young man of around twenty years old, black hair sweeping across his shoulders, stood from his seat at the long table. He looked heavily out of place among the other, much older, professors. His face betrayed no sense of joy or pleasure as he stood in front of the student body. He stared blankly down his hooked nose, a slight grimace barely detectable in his dark eyes. Sarah shrunk in on herself slightly. He looked incredibly intimidating.

Hushed whispers circulated throughout the Great Hall as a small amount of applause echoed from a majority of the younger students. Several older students were sharing concerned looks across the tables. Professor Snape sneered in contempt before sitting back down in a huff. Sarah couldn’t help but get the impression that he didn’t want to be here.

“Now, I know many of you may remember that Professor Snape was a student here not that long ago, but I expect each and every one of you to show him the same respect as you would for any other professor here at Hogwarts,” he said with a knowing gaze. The whispers stopped almost instantaneously. “As well as Professor Snape, I’d also like us all to welcome Professor Evana Follett as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She was kind enough to take the position on short notice, so I hope that all of you will treat her well.”

An older woman farther down the staff table stood from her seat, maroon hat slipping slightly along her wild blonde hair. She gave a bright smile, eyes twinkling behind her rather large glasses perched atop her nose. Long beaded strings draped from the arms down and behind her neck. Another almost half-hearted applause rang through the hall. Sarah looked about in confusion. A few whispers met her ears.

“Wonder how long this one will last,” said a voice to her left.

“Bet she doesn’t make it through the end of the year,” said another farther in the distance.

Sarah looked around with worry before locking eyes with the prefect across from her and Claire. He mouthed ‘ _ later _ ’ and turned his attention back up to the front of the Great Hall. Sarah nodded, eyebrows pinched in concern before turning back to face the front as well. Something strange seemed to be going on in this school.

“Lastly, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. Now, I believe that’s all for tonight. Time for bed, off you trot,” smiled Professor Dumbledore.

The Hufflepuff first years gathered around their respective prefect, Sarah now learning that the boy's name was Martin Davis, and prepared to move out of the Great Hall. The chatter had died down quite substantially. Everyone was full and content inside of the school. Sarah, herself, was awfully tired and couldn’t wait to get some sleep.

As her and Claire headed for the large doors along with their housemates, however, a tug at Sarah’s sleeve caused her to jump in place, spinning around to face the perpetrator. The other Hufflepuff prefect, an older girl with rich messy brown hair tied high into a ponytail, stood before her. Sarah blinked in confusion.

“Sarah, is it?” the girl asked softly, a relaxed voice accentuating her earthy demeanor. Sarah looked to Claire before turning back to the older girl to nod suspiciously. The girl smiled lazily before nodding in return, sticking out a tanned arm in offering. “Professor Dumbledore asked that I give this to you. Didn’t want to forget.”

Sarah looked to the prefect's hand and saw a small white envelope sticking between her fingers. She grabbed it gently before glancing back up at the girl’s face. Did this have anything to do with what her aunt had told her before boarding the train?

“Alright, come on now. Let’s get you two little things to the common room,” smiled the prefect. “Wouldn’t want you getting soaked.”

“Soaked?” asked Sarah with apprehension. Claire chuckled and made to follow the prefect, gesturing for Sarah to follow. It seemed she’d just have to hope she never found out what they had meant by that. Knowing her luck though, it was bound to happen anyway. That’s how things always went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who made it this far! I appreciate any kudos and comments you have to offer and would love to hear what you think of the story this far! I have up to chapter 8 planned out to a T, and plan on having around 15 chapters in total. Hope to see you along for the ride!


	3. Rumors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to my beta readers beebeecait and The_Lost_Flower for all your help!

Chapter 3

Rumors

Sarah sat in the Great hall as she ate her breakfast in a daze. Dozens of plates lined the Hufflepuff table before her as gentle sunlight filtered through the magnificently tall window at the front of the room. No candles floated along their heads this morning. Instead, winged stone animal statues resembling the four house’s mascots leaned out from the walls, mirroring each other. A singular curved plate of fire hung from each by a string of chains. The warmth radiated through the room, keeping the many other drowsy students toasty this otherwise chilly morning.

Claire sat by her side, busily jabbering on about the class timetable they had just been issued. Sarah was only barely paying attention as her brain tried to process Claire’s words through the fog currently muddying her thoughts. She lazily took a bite out of her blueberry muffin. Mornings were always difficult for her. Sarah wished her medicinal potion didn’t make her so tired for so long after taking it. Though, given the benefits, she’d rather deal with the side effects than go without. A shiver ran through her. Right, she still had to deal with that later.

She still hadn’t told Claire about what the note from Dumbledore had said the previous night. It was rather personal–and a bit of a sore spot if she was being honest–so she genuinely didn’t want to discuss it. She was embarrassed enough as it was. Luckily, at least, her bumbag of all things could be safely hidden under her robes. For emergencies of course. She could never be too careful. Of course, there was always the risk of running out of one of the vials she had stowed away in there. Sarah wasn’t anywhere near skilled enough to refill any of them by herself yet. Her Aunt Mary wasn’t here to help her while she was up at school, either. Perhaps, if she was careful about it, she could manage to convince–

No. Nope. Absolutely not. She was not going to ask Professor Snape to make any extra potions for her. The idea alone made her want to hide underneath the table. It was already bad enough that Professor Dumbeldore had put him up to providing her with a weekly refill of her subdual potion, which even with her limited knowledge she knew wasn’t the easiest thing to brew. There was no way she was going to try and take up more of his valuable time just to help her. She felt guilty enough as it was. Plus, and perhaps an even larger reason for her feelings, she was absolutely petrified of him. Sarah’s note had told her she would need to stop by his office once a week beginning next Thursday after dinner to collect a refill for her medication. She really wasn’t looking forward to it.

Sarah had just enough potion left to last her until then, thankfully. It wasn’t anything she had to worry about quite yet. The meeting wasn’t for at least another week. However, that didn’t stop the anxiety from creeping up into her head. Her skin prickled at the back of her neck. She hadn’t been inside of the school for more than twenty four hours and already the rumors were circulating; Snape was a Death Eater. That’s what a lot of the older students were going on about, whispering in the halls around every corner. She grimaced at the memory.

_ “Can you believe they actually let him come and teach here?” said an older Gryffindor girl, harsh and quiet behind her hand.  _

_ “Dumbledore must be blind if he can’t see what’s going on right under his nose,” replied a Ravenclaw boy of the same age, the two of them huddled against a wall as Sarah had passed by. “He must realize what Snape is trying to do.” _

_ “I just can’t believe they’d let a Death Eater teach at this school.” _

Sarah didn’t want to believe the things she had heard. However, as she glanced up to the professor’s table to see the black haired man staring blankly at his plate, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the whole thing. She wondered if she could request someone else to help her with her potion. Perhaps someone from the hospital wing? Or at the very least ask that she not have to go get it in person. Just as she was starting to brainstorm a way out of the mess in her mind, Claire piped up beside her.

“Hey, are you listening? Anybody home?” asked Claire, waving a hand in front of Sarah’s face. Sarah shook her head, snapping herself back to the present.

“Wha–?” she replied intelligently, still clearly in a bit of a daze. Claire didn’t seem too perturbed by her friend’s very obvious lack of attention.

“I was  _ saying _ I think the morning post’s here,” Claire repeated for her, pointing up to the large ceiling above their heads. Sarah looked up to see about a hundred different owls flying between the rafters. Various parcels, newspapers and letters were clutched in their claws or tied to a leg as they sought out the recipients of their deliveries. How had she not noticed all of the noise before? She must be more out of it than she thought. Her hands rubbed at her face vigorously.

A rather official looking barn owl swooped to stand in front of Sarah atop the table, Daily Prophet clutched in its beak. The owl dropped it, mere inches from her plate, and stuck out its scrawny leg. Claire gaped as Sarah relieved the owl of its delivery.

“You get the Daily Prophet?” Claire asked in surprise. Sarah fished a knut out of her robes, depositing it into the owls pouch before offering the owl a bit of her breakfast muffin. 

“Yeah, I like to keep in touch with stuff,” said Sarah simply. The barn owl hooted thankfully before departing, flying high up towards the ceiling before disappearing out from the many exits along the upper walls. They were probably off to the owlery to rest before making the trip back. Sarah knew of the owlery but she hadn’t had the chance to learn its whereabouts quite yet. Maybe one of her house prefects would be able to help her after classes. Har aunt would probably want to hear from her soon. 

She unrolled her newspaper and looked at the front page. Sure enough, yesterday’s incident was printed clear across the cover. “Hogwarts Express Attack Thwarted” read the headline in large glistening black print. The Hogwarts Express shimmered in black and white among the long paragraphs detailing yesterday's events. Sarah shuddered as the images of red flashing lights sparked in her mind's eye.

Even though the stories seemed to be getting progressively worse, Sarah couldn’t help but always read the paper. She still knew it was better to stay informed. Though, sometimes she wished she could just push it all from her mind and not let the constant paranoia consume her. She dreamt of the day something pleasant would grace the headlines. She frowned as she read over the main article. Claire stared at the front page with her before looking up to her face.

“Think I could skim the sports page when you’re done?” Claire asked with a pleading look, hazel eyes sparkling. Sarah gave a sigh, corner of her lip twitching into a smile, and handed the paper over. Claire squealed and flipped through to page nine. At least her friend was there to keep her from spiraling too much. Even if she didn’t know she was doing anything.

“I thought so! Brazil is still hanging on,” said Claire, eyes like lightning over the words. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head, laughing to herself. Of course it was quidditch. “I wonder if they’ll end up making it to the World Cup…”

“So, what were you saying about the timetables again?” asked Sarah, pulling her friend from what was bound to be another tirade of a one sided conversation. She didn’t exactly mind listening to her, she found. It was nice to have someone’s company without being expected to keep a conversation going. Sometimes talking too much made her nervous. She preferred to listen rather than divulge things about herself. Claire didn’t seem bothered by this. In fact, she seemed more than happy to talk enough for the both of them.

“Oh!” said Claire, slamming the Daily Prophet back onto the table–goblets of pumpkin juice spilling slightly as they shook–before digging out a piece of parchment from her robes. She gave it another once over, corners of her lips twisting downwards. 

“We have Herbology after breakfast with the Gryffindors apparently. And then after lunch it’s Potions with the Raveclaws.  _ Why _ did it have to be both of the things I’m bound to be bad at?” Claire grumbled, more to herself. Sarah’s chest tightened. Why did it have to be today of all days? Maybe she could just skip…

Sarah shook her head at the thought. No, she had promised she would try her best while she was here at school. She couldn’t rightly go cutting her very first class for that subject. Her aunt would be so disappointed in her. That and she was more afraid to find out what Professor Snape would do if she didn’t show up at all than if she did. It was starting to really sink in that there would be no avoiding this forever. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

As Sarah and Claire headed outside onto the grounds, after making a quick pit stop back at their dormitory first, they couldn’t help but notice how brightly the sun was shining from high up in the sky. Not a single cloud hung in the air above the horizon. Crisp morning air filled their lungs as they walked along the dirt path out towards the greenhouses. Sarah gave a small smile. The contrast to the previous day back at King’s Cross station was incredible. Perhaps things were going to go well today after all.

After only the first few minutes of class, Sarah could see that wasn’t to be the case. It wasn’t as if Herbology was difficult, in fact quite the contrary. She was actually quite surprised with what she remembered from all the times her Aunt Mary had talked about the types of plants they used up at the hospital she worked at. It had always been so interesting to listen to. That, and considering all of the potions she kept on hand, some ingredients were bound to stick in her brain.

Of the two of them, Sarah seemed to be predictably alone on this one. Claire, just as she had complained about prior, wasn’t having nearly as easy of a time. Sarah hadn’t even thought she was even capable of being this quiet. The bickering Ward siblings towards the back of the greenhouse certainly weren’t helping her concentrate either. A new wrinkle appeared between Claire’s scrunched brows with every new insult they shot at each other. Sarah wished she could say something to make them stop.

“Now, when dealing with a spiky bush, it’s best to always stand back a ways before casting your fire-making spell to get rid of them. Can anyone tell me why that is?” asked Professor Sprout, looking out at all of the first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs seated inside greenhouse 1. A clean, earthy scent wafted amongst the students as they sat along the tables. Many leafy plants surrounded them along the greenhouse walls and floor. Though, none were particularly dangerous. Oddly enough, none of the plants were on today’s agenda either it seemed. Professor Sprout was, instead, instructing them through their books with the use of a blackboard. She had wanted to start off the semester with something more interesting for their first lecture. Sarah was indeed very interested.

_ Because it can shoot its spikes out at you to defend itself, _ thought Sarah proudly to herself. Her fingers twitched as she made to raise her hand but stopped short. A cold prickling sensation had crawled down her back as she imagined herself trying to answer the question. Her throat tightened and her arm froze, fingers curling in on themselves. It was like she was back under the spell from yesterday’s train ride. She looked down at the wooden table guiltily.

“Yes, Mr. Carter?” smiled Professor Sprout, eyeing the cinnamon skinned Gryffindor boy a few seats from Sarah.

“Because the spikes can shoot out of it?” he replied, scratching at the back of his dark buzzed cut head.

“Excellent! A point for Gryffindor! Now then, because the spiky bush is liable to try and defend itself, always make sure to…” Professor Sprout droned on. Sarah was busy staring at her own fist on the table, eyebrows scrunched in frustration. The prickling hadn’t gone away.

“Hey, you alright?” whispered Claire from her side. Professor Sprout had turned toward the blackboard to write out a few complicated words for them to study. Sarah’s eyes shifted and she nodded, lips drawn into a tight line. She wasn’t really, but it would be stupid to talk about. It was just a silly point. Not that big of a deal. It didn’t matter.

So why hadn’t she been able to raise her hand?

“Sarah, you sure you’re alright?” asked Claire once they started making their way back towards the castle. The sun beat down on their backs as they followed along the dirt path. Sarah opened her mouth to answer before promptly closing it again. A small flush had risen to her cheeks. It was stupid. She was fine.

“Yeah,” Sarah croaked out. “I’m alright.”

Claire gave her a scrutinizing look, lips pulled to the side in a pout. She scrunched her brows in obvious disbelief. Sarah avoided her eyes, looking down suddenly to focus on a particularly interesting bit of grass at the edge of the path. Maybe if she just didn’t look at her, she might drop it. Then again, this was Claire.

“You don’t  _ seem _ alright. But if you don’t want to talk about it, I guess that’s okay.” Claire relented, face softening to a sadder expression. “I just don’t like seeing my friends sad, is all. I wanted to help”

Sarah scrunched her face, fists balled at her sides. She didn’t want to be upset. It was such a silly thing to be embarrassed about. Acting like this was just drawing more attention to herself, which made even less sense to her and made her feel worse. She wished her body would just work properly for once. Her head hurt.

“I… got embarrassed,” Sarah finally forced out, her head turned away from her friend. The pair stood outside the castle doors. A shadow loomed over them, thankfully hiding the color blooming in Sarah’s face.

“What for?” asked Claire, concerned. “Was it because of Herbology? Is it hard for you too? That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. If anything, that should be my job. I’m the one with parents who run a glasshouse shop,” Claire trailed off as Sarah shook her head.

“No… I knew the answers. I was,” Sarah started, hands clenching tighter. “I was scared to raise my hand.” She hung her head, brown hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. Claire tilted her head.

“Is that all? Sarah, you don’t have to be embarrassed about that. Who cares if Gryffindor got a stupid point. You don’t have to prove to anyone you know your stuff. As long as you know you know your stuff, that’s all that matters,” Claire said with a smile, reaching forward to pat Sarah on the shoulder. Her friend flinched but didn’t smack her away like last time. Instead, she peeked up through her hair, frown still pulling at her mouth.

“You think so?” asked Sarah hesitantly. It did make her feel better about not getting a point for Hjfflepuff, but something else still nagged at her. She  _ wanted _ to be able to participate. It was just something she would have to deal with later, she supposed. The uneasiness was slowly dissipating for the moment.

“‘Course I do. Now, come on. Let’s get back to the common room before lunch. I’m not looking forward to potions, so I’m going to try and look a few things over before class starts. Want to help me?” asked Claire, turning towards the doors. The fear shot back through Sarah almost instantaneously. Claire gave her a curious look.

“Er, Sarah? You look like you’re going to be sick,” said Claire warily. Sarah agreed privately that that just might be the case.

“I… don’t know if I’m going to go to lunch,” Sarah admitted, only half lying. She was still fighting with herself on whether or not to go to potions as well. That was a tougher case, however. She couldn’t rightly get through school not going to one of her main classes.

“Oh? Why, what’s up? You still upset about the other thing?” Claire asked as Sarah forced her way forward, accompanying Claire through the doors into the stone castle. A soft torchlight replaced the blinding sun from outside as the doors closed behind them. Several other students were hurrying about to their respective classes. A few others straggled behind, whispering to one another along the corridors. Sarah tensed and did her best to block them out. She shook her head vigorously.

Claire studied her friend before looking about, noticing the gossiping upperclassmen. She nodded and turned back to her friend. Sarah still hadn't looked up from the floor as they continued down towards the bridge leading back to the other side of the castle.

“Are you worried about potions class?” asked Claire carefully. Sarah stilled for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Is it because of what the other students have been saying?” Claire pressed, whispering a bit herself. Sarah was glad for this. She nodded once more.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Claire insisted. “My parents have talked about Dumbledore basically my whole life. He’s supposed to be the greatest wizard in the  _ whole _ world. I’m sure he’d never be fooled by someone so easily as that. Especially not right now. We’re completely safe.”

Sarah breathed deeply before sighing, looking up from her feet. She wanted desperately to believe her friend but something just didn’t feel right. It was too… coincidental for her. Plus, wasn’t Professor Snape head of Slytherin house? And he just so happened to start the same year the train was attacked? What were the chances of that?

“I still don’t know if I can go to lunch,” said Sarah, looking about at all of the people surrounding them. She didn’t want to sit among all of the gossip before she needed to face her fears. The last thing she wanted was to be sick during her first potions class. She didn’t need to go giving Professor Snape a reason to hate her more than he probably already did right off the bat. Claire watched her for a moment before her face lit up, eyes sparkling as a grin stretched across her face.

“I know the perfect place we can go! You won’t have to worry about being around any other students, and we can still have lunch,” grinned Claire. The look on her face worried Sarah. Where on earth was she going to try and bring her? As if sensing her apprehension, Claire continued on with gusto.

“No, it’s nowhere bad! Promise! My parents told me all about going there when they were back at school. It’s not that far from here, you’ll love it. Come on!” Claire laughed, grabbing a hold of Sarah’s sleeve before dragging her off. Sarah stumbled behind as she did her best to keep up

Before she knew it, Sarah found herself down the corridor leading to their common room in the basement. However, instead of turning towards the barrels leading to the Hufflepuff dorms, Claire dragged her farther along the corridor. They stopped in front of one of the many paintings of fruit lining the stone walls. Sarah raised a brow. Was this it? Was she just going to spend her lunch time in this empty corridor looking at pictures of food?

Claire gave her a broad smile before reaching forward, fingers tickling at the large pear in the painting before them. Sarah watched in confusion before taking a step back as a small laugh reverberated through the air. The green pear had started to move. It giggled and wriggled against Claire’s fingertips as Sarah watched on. Then, quite suddenly, the pear shifted and pulled out from the painting, morphing into a bright and shiny green door handle. Claire’s eager face met Sarahs’s curious one as she pulled the painting open like a door from the wall.

An enormous room lay beyond the newly formed door. Sarah gaped as the two friends stepped inside, looking up towards the high ceiling. It looked as high as the ceiling back in the Great Hall. Countless glittering brass pots and pans littered about the walls on either side of the four long tables stretched out through the room. It looked oddly familiar.

A roaring bricked fireplace stood at the other end of the large room. The firelight lit the room in an orange glow as several house-elves skittered about, plates, bowls, ladles and spices gripped in their spindly hands. Sarah had never seen one in person before and was rather taken aback. Tea towels adorned with the Hogwarts crest wrapped like togas around theri small bodies. Large batlike ears and bulging eyes poked out from their heads. A few gave pleasant smiles their way before coming towards them.

“Er, Claire?” said Sarah uneasily.

“You’ll be fine, they’re super nice,” insisted Claire, turning to one of the house-elves closets to them. “Hello! My friend here isn’t feeling so well, so we were wondering if anyone here would be able to help us out.” The house-elves immediately grinned and nodded.

“Yes, of course. What would the misses like? We is here to serve,” said a particularly skinny house-elf. “Would the misses like some tea?”

Sarah felt instantly more at ease. Being surrounded by smiling faces, delicious smelling food and her only friend certainly helped wash her worries away. She turned to Claire and nodded in lieu of answering herself. Claire smiled and turned back to the house-elf.

“Yes please, and perhaps a little of whatever you’re serving to up top,” said Claire, pointing her finger up towards the high ceiling. Sarah glanced upwards and it finally clicked. Ah, they must be in the kitchens underneath the Great Hall. No wonder it had looked so vaguely familiar.

Before she knew it, Sarah found herself surrounded with all sorts of savory goodies. Small bowls of hot soup, sandwiches of all flavors, crisps, a few cups of tea and a couple biscuits littered the tabler in front of the two friends. Claire was in the midst of telling Sarah about the time her brother Stuart had spooked himself up a tree. Apparently, his magic had been incredibly unpredictable when they were younger and Claire had a habit of poking fun at him for it.

Sarah swallowed the bite of the turkey sandwich she had taken and laughed uneasily. She always got nervous whenever Claire brought up the times she had teased her brother. Sarah couldn’t help but put herself in his shoes and feel just a bit bad. Though, she did find herself laughing along to a few of the stories. Claire insisted that she never took it too far and that he always tried to get her back. Tried being the key word, she would always stress. Sarah could only hope, however, that Claire wouldn’t decide to move her target onto her. This had started to worry at her.

“Do you… do you really think Professor Snape isn’t a Death Eater?” Sarah finally piped up once Claire had paused long enough to take a long sip of her soup.

“What? Yeah, there’s no way he is. He might look a bit scary but that doesn’t mean he's a Death Eater. Dumbledore would’ve known before he hired him. He’d never let someone like that teach at this school. He’d have to be mad. Well, more than he already is I mean,” Claire laughed to herself. “Brilliant wizard, but he is a bit off sometimes, isn’t he?”

Sarah nodded, smiling slightly. He was a bit odd. Her Aunt Mary had been very adamant on him being very great, however. Didn’t mean it was any easier for her to make the thoughts stop coming though.

“But what if he is, though?” Sarah whispered, glancing around worriedly. The house-elves were busy cleaning up the pots and pans from earlier. Dinner would need to begin being prepped soon. They didn’t seem at all bothered to have the two young witches hanging around in the kitchen while they worked. In fact, every so often Sarah would find her tea cup miraculously refilled or a new biscuit set on her plate without even noticing it had been put there. They were definitely good at their work.

“Then I’ll bop him over the head and you can throw all your vials you got there at him,” Claire laughed. Sarah snorted at the unexpected answer and shook her head. “No but really, don’t worry about it Sarah. I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

Suddenly, hundreds of dirty plates and goblets materialised along the four tables in the room. Claire’s eyebrows raised as she took another long drink from her soup cup. She nudged at Sarah who flinched to the side, turning to face her.

“We should get going. Lunch’s just ended,” said Claire with a heavy sigh. She got up to stretch and yawned before turning back to her friend. “Come on, you can just leave that there. Don’t worry about it.”

Sarah gave an uneasy glance to the small mess they had made before getting to her feet. She watched as a few house-elves happily strode over to their table. Without a word they began snatching up the many dishes they had left out sitting among the many dishes from the rest of the school’s lunch. They each gave a bow to the witches before shuffling off. There was still plenty to get done before dinner tonight. Sarah gave an understanding look before nodding to Claire, turning to follow her out of the room.

Luckily the potions classroom wasn’t all that far from the kitchens and Hufflepuff dorms. Sarah thought it to be a bit annoying having to lug her cauldron all the way up to the ground floor, only to have to turn a few feet from where she came from to head down another set of stairs. Why didn’t they just connect them on the same level? It wasn’t until they descended even farther and the air grew significantly colder that she understood. The stairs weren’t leading down to the basement level. No, they were headed towards the dungeons. She shivered and drew her robes closed tighter to herself.

They were one of the first to arrive in front of the large door. Another Huffelpuff and a couple Ravenclaws had already found their way inside. Sarah recognized them all well enough. Toby seemed to have located his wand just fine, as he was waving it around in a very childish fashion. Sarah could see why he had lost it prior. The two Ravenclaw girls sat far on the other side of the room, sharing one of the many square tables. They looked to be the two girls Sarah and Claire had shared a boat ride with the previous night. Lucille and… Sarah couldn’t remember the other girl’s name. She had been much too nervous during the sorting ceremony to pay attention to everyone as they went up.

She gave a small smile when she caught Lucille’s eye. A sneer crossed the other girl’s face as she looked her up and down, causing Sarah to flush with embarrassment. The two Ravenclaws began whispering hurriedly to each other. A lump formed in Sarah’s throat and she turned away from them, anxiety welling up inside of her. Claire hadn’t seemed to notice what had just transpired. Perhaps it would be best to sit on the other side of the room. 

Sarah walked with purpose as far away from the other two as she could manage, Claire following in suit as she gazed in awe around the dark room. The boy from before smiled when he saw them heading in his direction. Sarah’s stomach lurched. This isn’t exactly what she had wanted either. After having her self confidence dashed, the prospect of trying to befriend someone different didn’t exactly give her the best of feelings. As usual, she didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter. It was becoming more commonplace than she was comfortable with.

“Hi!” said Claire excitedly at the Hufflepuff boy, blonde curls bouncing as she hopped into the seat next to him. Sarah shuffled her feet anxiously before reluctantly taking a seat across from him and propped her cauldron up onto the table. She scooted closer to Claire and avoided eye contact.

“Hey,” smiled Toby. “This room is bloody creepy, innit?” He gave a laugh as Claire nodded enthusiastically. Sarah chanced a glance upwards. She had been so focused on trying not to be sick that she hadn’t really gotten a good look at anything.

What looked to be pickled animals floating in all differently sized jars lined the shelved stone walls. A Gargoyle statue sat in one of the front corners of the room, water spewing from its mouth. Vials, jars and containers of all shapes and sizes stood inside the large cupboard in the corner opposite. Low light wafted from the few torches littering the room. Multiple square tables were scattered about, four stools a piece. Along the front of the room sat a rather large long oval table littered with various contraptions, books and vials. The whole place gave Sarah the creeps.

“So, you’re Sarah, right?” asked a voice.

Sarah snapped out of her observations and looked forward. Her eyes locked with Toby seated across from her before she could stop herself. His eyes grew wide before he blinked away the thoughts presumably brewing in his mind. He gave a cough.

Sarah nodded hesitantly, glancing over to Claire. She wondered what the two had been talking about while she had been busy inspecting the room. Had it been about her? She certainly hoped not. Even if it had been, she at least knew Claire wouldn’t say anything to embarrass her. At least, she was mostly sure.

“I saw you got sorted last was all, tough break. That must’ve been proper scary,” said Toby, looking as if he was certainly glad he hadn’t been in her shoes. She didn’t blame him.

Before she could work up the courage to actually converse with the boy sitting across her, more people had begun to file in. A line seemed to have been drawn down the middle of the classroom that Sarah hadn’t seen before. The division between the houses was more than obvious. All of the Hufflepuffs had ended up on one side, while the Ravenclaws had flocked to the other. Perhaps that was why those other two girls had looked at her the way that they did. Was it because she was a Hufflepuff? That didn’t seem very fair. A nagging feeling tugged at her chest.

Just as the things were beginning to liven up, the chatter of twenty students bouncing off of the walls, a loud bang shot through the room. Sarah reflexively flinched and gripped hard onto the table. A billowing cape trailed behind the man who had entered the room, black hair fanning with every stride. Professor Snape stood before them, dark eyes surveying with a clear look of distaste. Sarah shrunk in on herself.  _ Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic. _

“I don’t expect,” he said coolly, “many of you to properly appreciate the subtle science that is potion making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, perhaps you may be thinking that such magic is beneath the average spell or charm–” his eyes flashed over to Toby who flushed in response, averting his gaze.“–you would be wrong." 

"For the beauty underneath the shimmering fumes of a cauldron may hold even the power of life itself. Liquids able to bring you back from the brink of death, or poisons so potent they burn through your veins and drag you down under yourself until there’s nothing left but a shallow husk of emptiness and death,” he continued on, pausing to look over the silent room. All eyes were trained on him with cautious interest. Sarah shivered in her seat, static rising from her arms as she stared at the table.

“I can teach you all the powers of the greats. Every trick, every secret, every bit of knowledge your feeble little minds could ever hope to possess. That is,” his voice had grown colder, rivaling even the frigid air in the dungeons, “unless some of you decide it better to not. Pay. Attention.”

It was as if ice water had slid down her back as Sarah turned in her seat, peeking up to see Professor Snape glaring daggers in her direction. His lip curled into a sneer. Practically all eyes in the room had shifted onto her. She felt like she might be sick.

“Decided to join us, have you?” said Professor Snape. “Tell me, then, as you must already be so knowledgeable if you think your time is better spent elsewhere, what is another name dittany is commonly referred to by?”

_ Burning bush. _

“No? Well then, let’s try another, shall we? What would I get if I mixed valerian sprigs, crushed mistletoe berries and Lethe river water?” he asked once more when she failed to answer aloud, lips quivering. 

_ Forgetfulness potion… _

“Pity,” he said with mockful sorrow, “it seems we didn’t know quite as much as we thought. For your information, the dittany plant also goes by the name of burning bush, while those ingredients would concoct a potion intended to clear the memory of the drinker. Though perhaps, you might already be familiar with such effects.” He turned his back to her swiftly and strode over to the oval table towards the front of the room.

“I’d advise you to pay better attention from now on. A point from Hufflepuff for your obvious lack of respect,” he finished, hand resting along the tabletop as his fingers spread out like spider legs.

Heat rose to Sarah’s cheeks as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She choked them back, ears buzzing as her heart throbbed painfully beneath her chest. The torchlight in the room flickered as she took shaky breaths to calm herself. Things had gone pretty much just as she thought they would have. As head of Slytherin house and a possible–more probable at this point considering the utter disdain with which he carried himself–how could she have ever thought to try and fool herself into believing Claire? This man was horrible.

Claire looked to her with concern before turning to glare back at the professor who was busy looking at the other half of the room. Her mouth opened wide with her brows turned down in a rage. Before she could speak, presumably something that would get them all into even worse trouble, Sarah quickly grabbed and squeezed her hand. Claire looked at her in shock, mouth still hanging open. Sarah shook her head meekly before turning away from her and withdrawing her hand.

She turned towards the front of the room, embarrassment still clear on her cheeks as Professor Snape began interrogating them as to why they weren’t copying everything into their notes. A few Ravenclaw were snickering behind their hands across the room. Sarah sniffed and pulled out her parchment, vision blurry from the tears still refusing to break away. She would just have to do as she was told and hope something like that wouldn’t happen again. It’s not as if she hadn’t been used to similar situations already. Seems some parts of your life never really change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep apologies for the angst but it had to be done, things will get better eventually! Thanks so much to all those who has commented and subscribed to this story! it really helps keep me motivated! Hope to hear more from you all as we go! all comments and kudos are very much appreciated and I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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